


But I Don't Drink!

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Blair's car has been hit by a drunk driver





	But I Don't Drink!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2018 Sentinel Bingo wild card

 

But I Don't Drink!

by bluewolf

When the phone rang, Jim sighed resignedly as he reached for it. Either the Volvo wouldn't start, or Blair had drunk too much at the Rainier Christmas party, knew he'd be wise not to drive...

"Ellison."

"Hello, Detective." The female voice sounded vaguely familiar. "This is Norma Burke at Cascade General. Blair asked me to phone you - "

"Blair? Is he hurt? How badly?" He was already kicking off his slippers, ready to put on his shoes the moment the call was finished.

"No - he is hurt, but not too badly, though he will need someone to pick him up."

"What happened?"

"He was driving along minding his own business when another car swerved and hit him head on. Its driver was knocked out. A patrol car happened to be passing at the time, and when they checked the other driver, they could smell the booze on him, so when he was brought here his blood was checked, and he's definitely over the limit. Blair insisted on taking a test too, for the record, and he's clear."

"So because some idiot didn't have the sense to stay off the booze, Blair's been hurt."

"Mostly bruising from his seat belt, though he has a strained ankle. But he will need picked up."

"On my way, and thanks, Norma." He hung up and hurried to put his shoes on. He was reaching for his coat when the phone rang again.

"Ellison!"

"Simon. Jim, Blair's - "

"Thanks, Simon, the hospital just phoned. I'm on my way there now to pick him up."

"So he's not badly hurt? Officer Grogan could only tell me he'd been taken to hospital after his car was hit by a suspected drunk driver."

"Ah, the patrol guys recognized him?" Jim wasn't really surprised.

"Yes, and they've had his car brought in here."

"Right." Jim made a mental note to have a word with Grogan and his partner in the morning. "Now I must get going, or Sandburg will be thinking I've had an accident. See you in the morning." He hung up, grabbed his coat and rushed out.

***

In the morning, Blair insisted he was all right and could easily be left alone, so Jim went in to the PD a little early. He went to Patrol, and caught up with Paul Grogan and his partner Dave Quillan, thanking them for helping Blair and dealing with the smashed Volvo. The PD had been notified that Albert Forrest, the other driver, had regained consciousness so, as the officers attending the crash, Grogan and Quillan went to interview him - he was far from ready to leave the hospital, having a broken arm and a surprisingly severe reaction to being drunk. Jim decided to go with them.

At the hospital they found Forrest in the throes of regurgitating all his meals for the last month, and from the look of him it wasn't for the first time that morning. When he raised his head to look at them, the misery on his face couldn't have been faked.

"What happened? The nurses won't tell me anything and... and I didn't think I'd find any nurses so unsympathetic... "

"Well, Mr. Forrest, if you will get drunk then get behind the wheel of a car - " Grogan began.

"And the guy whose car you hit is a favorite with the nurses here," Jim added.

"Drunk?" Forrest said. "I don't drink! My dad was an alcoholic, and after the way I saw him behave when I was a kid, I swore I'd never touch the stuff!"

"The smell of booze was on you when we picked you up," Quillan said, "so the hospital did a blood test. At the time you were brought in, you were over the limit."

"I tell you, I don't drink! You can ask anyone who knows me!"

"Where were you last night?" Grogan asked.

"At a party... but I left before it finished. Everyone kept joking about me not drinking. I'm used to that, though it stopped being funny years ago. You'd think my friends would be used to me sticking with apple juice, and accept that it's my choice... Oh, god!"

"What?" Grogan asked.

"They wouldn't... surely they wouldn't... "

"Wouldn't - ?"

"Slip something... Isn't vodka supposed not to have any taste or smell? Slip something into my juice? They're my friends, surely they wouldn't... "

Jim looked at Grogan. "It's one possibility," he said, "though if they did, Mr. Forrest doesn't need enemies."

Grogan nodded, understanding what Jim was saying. "Where was your party, Mr. Forrest?"

"At the Cascade New Inn."

"We'll check with the staff, see if they noticed anything unusual. Meanwhile, I'm afraid you're still under arrest for drunk driving, but I understand the hospital is keeping you in for another day or two."

Forrest nodded, clearly unhappy - and Jim, Grogan and Quillan couldn't blame him.

***

As they reached the door, they became aware of several ambulances rushing in, nose to tail. Orderlies with gurneys poured out of the Emergency entrance - it was as if every available one was there.

Jim glanced at Grogan. "Road accident?" he asked.

"Possible, but - " he was watching the victims being lifted carefully onto the gurneys - "I don't think so. Those guys aren't being lifted as... well, cautiously as they would be if there were possible physical injuries. Well, we might or might not find out, but for the moment we have the New Inn to visit."

But they did get an answer, and faster than they could possibly have expected. The New Inn was a hive of activity, and as they went in they saw two or three members of Forensics busy beside what was clearly a buffet table.

"Serena?" Jim asked as he saw the Forensics chief.

"Jim? Didn't expect to see you here. We don't know yet if there's any kind of case - "

"We're here to ask a few questions about a party last night - looks like you could be here for the same reason?"

"Yes. Last night the staff just shrugged and threw blankets over the guys who'd collapsed - they're not exactly used to customers passing out, but it's happened a few times - but this morning one of the guys in question was in a very bad way; one of the staff is a highly qualified first aider and thought it was alcohol poisoning - and the staff knew that nobody had been drinking too freely last night. He called for ambulances, and then started wondering why so many of the attendees had passed out. So he called the police. Forensics was sent in to check everything. It was lucky that the staff didn't wash everything up last night."

"That's interesting - someone ran into Blair's car last night - the guy tested over the limit, swore he'd only drunk juice all night and he didn't think his friends would have slipped him a mickey. I believe him. Thing is, he left a party here quite early."

"Hmmm... Looks like something in the food, then... Harvey!"

"Yes, Serena?"

"Concentrate on that bowl that looks as if had trifle in it."

"You got it."

Jim was already nodding. "The sponge in trifle is often soaked in some kind of booze," he said, knowing he was stating the obvious.

"And someone who only drank juice wouldn't know, from the taste... so your man could have eaten quite a lot without realizing he was eating himself over the alcohol limit."

"And even someone who did drink mightn't have realized how much of a kick was in the trifle. Yes, it's possible."

Jim looked over the fairly sparse remnants of what had clearly been a very generous buffet meal, then paused, his attention drawn by a smell...

"Serena."

Jim indicated a small bowl sitting on a side table near the main buffet table. "Might be an idea to get Harvey to check that out too. I think that's had trifle in it - but also some pouring custard."

***

Inside an hour, they had definite proof; the trifle had been well soaked with liquor, there was more in the custard... and the gravy was more than 50% alcohol, even although a lot of the alcohol content should have been lost while it was being kept hot. "Almost as if the entire liquid content of it was something alcoholic," Serena said grimly.

His face grim, Jim headed for the manager's office.

Although they were there in an official capacity and he knew the manager would expect to be called on, he knocked.

The door was opened instantly, almost as if the manager had been hovering beside it.

"Detective Ellison, Major Crime," Jim introduced himself.

"Paul Kovak."

"And you're the manager here?"

"Yes." Kovak hesitated, then said, "I didn't expect a few drunks to be treated as a major crime."

"Thing is, Mr. Kovak, we're beginning to suspect malicious... mischief might or might not be the best word. How much do you know about last night's party?"

Kovak frowned slightly. "It was a birthday party for a seventeen-year-old. Because of the kid's age, the parents specifically asked for a liquor-free trifle - "

Jim drew in a long sibilant breath. "Mr. Kovak, both the trifle and the custard provided to pour over it had such a high alcohol content that it knocked a teetotal attendee over the limit."

"What?" Kovak was clearly shocked.

"He left early - said all his friends knew he stuck with drinking juice but that the jokes got a bit tiring after a while - and drove away - but he was drunk enough to cause an accident - fortunately not a serious one. When we charged him with it, he was horrified, because he knew he hadn't been drinking. But if he'd been eating the trifle... and Forensics said there was a high alcoholic content in the gravy provided for the meat, as well... And several of the other attendees, who - we suppose - had had one or two drinks, passed out before they could leave - one of your staff this morning called for medical help because he suspected at least one had alcohol poisoning."

"Yes, Dwight told me. I was horrified... so I phoned Clive Swift, our barman - and he said it had been a pretty quiet night at the bar. He said he'd mentioned that to one of the handful of customers he'd had, and was told that because the party was for someone underage and several of the guests were also underage, the ones who were old enough had agreed among themselves to stick with just a couple of drinks."

"This is beginning to look... Mr. Kovak, have you recently fired anyone?"

Kovak shook his head. "No - my staff have all been with me for several years."

"Have you recently had a demand for protection money?"

"No."

"So this isn't something aimed at targeting you. I'm afraid I'll need the address of the people who arranged this party."

"You think it might have been aimed at them?" Kovak asked.

"It's beginning to look like a possibility."

They were interrupted by a hard knock on the door, which was immediately thrown open, and a very irate-looking man marched in, slamming the door behind him. He glared at Kovak.

"What the hell were you playing at? We specifically told you no liquor in the trifle, and the hospital just phoned - "

Jim stepped forward, hand upraised. "This is currently under investigation by the police," he said.

"What - ?"

"Detective Ellison, Major Crime. We have reason to believe that someone deliberately spiked some of the food last night - specifically the trifle and the gravy provided to go with the meat. Mr. Kovak can't think of anyone who might do it to cause him trouble. I gather you are the father of the young man whose birthday was being celebrated?"

"Yes."

"This is Mr. Parsons," Kovak put in.

Jim nodded acknowledgement of the information. "My next step would have been to visit you, sir. Is there anyone you can think of who might want to cause you any difficulties?"

Parsons frowned thoughtfully. "I recently fired an accountant I discovered had been embezzling quite a lot of money," he said slowly. "I chose not to prosecute because his father is a friend - and before you ask, he did understand; his son had been stealing from him, too. Oh, god!"

"You remembered something?"

"Harry - the younger brother of the guy I fired - was at the party!"

"I think I need the name of the man you fired."

"Calvin Messender. He lives with his parents at 687 Walnut Drive."

"Thank you, sir. I'll go there now and have a word."

***

The first person Jim saw at the house was Harold Messender, Calvin's father. There was an expression on Messender's face that Jim found difficult to interpret.

It only took a minute for Jim to explain his presence, and Messender sighed. "I was half expecting something, after Lou fired Calvin, but not something like this. I know Lou didn't charge Calvin with anything - and he could have - but Calvin didn't see that as something to be grateful for. He resented being fired... just as he's resented me for months because I closed the loophole that let him steal from me. And I have doubts that Lou's isn't the only business he's been stealing from, it's just that the others haven't caught him yet.

"His mother totally spoiled him, Detective. Let him get away with... well, not quite murder, but near enough. While it was just money... well... But I think you're right, coming after him. Do you want to see him?"

"Please. And if you want to stay in the room while I'm questioning him, do - I'll just ask you to be quiet."

"I'll go get him." Messender went out, returning a few minutes later with a younger version of himself. "This is Calvin, Detective."

Jim nodded, and fixed the young man with a stern eye. ""You are Calvin Messender," he said.

"Yes." There was a sullen quality in the voice.

"What can you tell me about your relationship with your brother Harry?"

Jim knew instantly from the startled look on Calvin's face that that wasn't what he had expected to be asked, and it had shaken him.

"I... he... We didn't really get on."

"Why not?"

"He was always Dad's favorite!"

"But weren't you your mother's favorite? Did Harry resent you for that?"

A look of disdain passed over Calvin's face. "He doesn't have the ambition to feel resentful about anything."

"Didn't stop you trying to make him falling down drunk though, did it? Get everyone to laugh at him for not being able to hold his liquor?"

"Wha- How... "

"Someone had to have spiked the food - didn't you stop to think that everyone would be affected?"

Calvin's jaw dropped. "Only the older ones should have been - " He broke off, realizing the hole he was digging for himself.

"Several of the young men who were at the party are in hospital suffering from alcohol poisoning. One is under arrest for drunk driving and causing an accident."

Messender moved to stand beside Jim. "What did you do, Calvin? What did you do?"

For a moment Calvin tried to look innocent, but in the face of the glares being directed at him by his father and the Detective, his attempt collapsed.

"One of the staff at the New Inn... He owed me money. Quite a lot of money. I gave him some bottles of 100% proof vodka and told him that if he spiked some of the food I'd consider that payment in full. I just wanted to get Harry blind drunk..."

Jim and Messender looked at each other. "And it didn't occur to you that everyone at the party would be affected?" Messender asked.

"Several of the young men affected were underage. The one under arrest was a total abstainer," Jim added.

What was left of Calvin's resistance deserted him. "Oh, God... I'm sorry... "

"We'll need the name of the staff member who helped you," Jim added.

"He... he was just trying to repay a debt."

"Spiking food that was supposed to be totally liquor-free was totally irresponsible... even to repay a debt painlessly. At the very least he was betraying Mr. Kovak. His name, please."

"Gordon Hanson." It was little more than a whisper.

Jim put that in his notebook. "Thank you. We'll probably need to speak to you again, but that's all for the moment."

"Go to your room," Messender said.

Calvin scurried out.

"I'm sorry," Messender told Jim. "I already told you his mother totally spoiled him. That was partly why I chose to favor Harry - give him some of the attention his mother didn't give him. But I never realized just how self-centered Calvin was. How much he resented his brother."

"I do understand," Jim said quietly. "I'm afraid he will probably be charged over this."

"I won't be hiring a top lawyer to defend him," Messenger said. "He deserves whatever a court throws at him."

***

Jim went back to the New Inn, where he charged Hanson. Kovak was more than annoyed when he heard the story.

"I should have known better than get involved with Calvin Messender," Hanson muttered. "For what it's worth, Boss, I'm sorry."

"All right, I accept that," Kovak said, "but you do realize that I can't have you working here after what you did."

"I know."

"And you have to realize that your actions caused a road accident that - fortunately - wasn't too serious, but could have been, and resulted in a number of young men, same of them underage, to be taken to hospital with suspected alcohol poisoning," Jim added. "Gordon Hanson, you are under arrest... "

Jim called for a police car, and Hanson was taken to the PD.

At the PD, Jim had a word with the DA, who agreed that under the circumstances Forrest shouldn't be charged.

Jim's next stop was the hospital, where he told Forrest - and the uniform guarding him - that there would be no charge.

As he turned to leave, Forrest said, "Can you tell the driver of the car I hit that I'm sorry."

"I'll tell him," Jim said. "But it wasn't your fault. Basically it was caused by an idiot who didn't think. He wanted to humiliate his brother, who was one of your fellow guests, and didn't stop to realize that everyone else at the party would be affected. He's the one who'll be charged."

Forrest nodded, and Jim left, pausing only to have a word with the nurses to let them know that Forrest was a victim too.

He went home, and found that Blair had dinner ready. He spared a minute to wash, then settled down to a comforting chicken casserole.

"It's been a busy day," Jim said as he ate. "But definitely a case of 'thank goodness for easily intimidated amateurs'. The guy who hit you isn't being charged, and asked me to tell you he was sorry - but it wasn't his fault." He went on to explain his day.

Blair shook his head at the end of it. "We can all get jealous occasionally," he said. "Though it doesn't sound as if this Messender guy actually had any reason to be jealous. Just the perfect example of someone who is so self-centered that nobody else matters."

And all Jim could do was agree.


End file.
